Tales from Lourdes

Prologue

This blog is about my recent personal experience of going on a pilgrimage to Lourdes.

Let me say straight off that I'm not religious.  The extent of my religious experiences as far as I can remember was going to Sunday School.  I also prayed every night by the side of my bed as a small child.  It was usually about wanting God to protect my mum and dad and the hope that I would marry Donny Osmond one day (look him up, kids). 

I hated going to Sunday School to be honest but my mum made me.  I'm not really sure why she did but I guess she wanted me to be brought up having a good Christian faith. 

Oh and I will be changing some names in this blog to protect the innocent/guilty (you know who you are).

Why did I go to Lourdes?

I'd seen a Facebook posting about a pilgrimage to Lourdes where there were places still available.  It intrigued me.  I had visited Lourdes for a half day back in 2001 when I was on holiday in France and for some reason, which I still can't explain, it had had a considerable effect on me.

I had also been thinking about doing voluntary work after my cancer treatment had ended.  So I thought that it would be a great opportunity to go on the pilgrimage as a helper.  I quickly realised however that it probably wasn't a good idea to manage the demands of being a helper with my medical history (plus I went on to get a fractured vertebra several weeks before the trip so lifting and running around would have been out of the question anyway).

I therefore decided to go as a pilgrim.  I knew some of the people who were going so I reckoned there was nothing to lose.  It might also help me get some spiritual and physical healing following the trauma of cancer and treatment.  Who knows, I thought, perhaps the holy water might help to protect me from getting cancer again. I was willing to give anything a try.  I told myself I would go with a open mind and that I would opt out of all the religious activities.  

I put my name down and so on Thursday night of 13 September I stayed with my cousin Nuala for a 03.00 am departure to Dublin Airport.  Three o'clock in the morning!  I told myself it had better be worth it.

The journey to Dublin

We left the departure point at 03.30am, half an hour later than expected as there had been some confusion over the departure time.  Heck, I could have had another 30 minutes in bed.  So that made me a bit grumpy.  On the way, we picked up an elderly woman who was incredibly perky.  It was 04.00 and even though there were spare seats on the bus, the woman asked if she could sit next to me. I was a little put out by this as I was shattered and didn't want to strike up a conversation.  I closed my eyes and lay my head against the window.  Ten minutes later, the woman poked me in the arm and said 'What's your name then?'.  Aargh. 

That woman turned out to be a revelation to me and I grew to love and respect her enormously.

About 04.30 in the morning, one of our group led everyone in prayer.  I couldn't believe it.  None of us had had much sleep, and everyone was praying.  I couldn't even join in as I wasn't of the same faith and I didn't know the words.  Had this been a big mistake on my part?  No, I thought, give it time and keep that open mind.

We arrived at the airport at 05.30.  After checking in we headed for the café and Nuala headed for a cigarette.  I got stuck into a big Irish breakfast and finished off what was left of Nuala's toast.  Waste not, want not.

We boarded the flight at 08.00 and an hour and a half later we landed at Lourdes airport.

Next time...

The adventure begins.

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